The 204th Hunger Games
by EmilyBlaire
Summary: The 204th Hunger Games opens with a Submit-A-Tribute Challenge-thing. Submissions CLOSED.
1. Submit Your Tribute!

**I know what you're thinking- Oh God, not another one! **

**Well, yes. Another one. Only because I'm lazy and don't feel like making up 24 new characters for myself.**

**Lucky tributes, come on down and sign up for the 204****th**** Hunger Games!**

_**Applications**_

_Name:_

_Age:_

_Birthday:_

_District:_

_Physical Appearance:_

_Personality:_

_Family Life (anything family-related the others could use against them):_

_Strengths (two good ones and a general one):_

_Weaknesses (two good ones and a 'meh' one): _

_Quick History: _

_Weapon of Choice:_

_Interview Angle:_

_Reaping Outfit:_

_Interview Outfit:_

_Games Outfit:_

_Token:_

_Stylist/Prep Team:_

_~Other~_

_Chariot Ride Costume Ideas:_

_Arena Ideas:_

_Relationships (if you want a romantic relationship, please PM me and I will PM the creator of the tribute of choice):_

_Alliances (holy or unholy, put them here):_

_Mentor:_

**I will be taking Tributes on a first-come-first-serve basis. Don't be offended if you don't get in and don't take it into offense if you get killed in the blood bath. It's the Hunger Games, after all. But I will use a random sequence generator, just to make it fair.**

The Tributes

**District One:**

**Male: **Jason Clarke (14)**  
****Female: **Anna Spiera (17)

**District Two:**

**Male: **Grayson Reese (15)**  
Female: **Ebony Darknight (18)

**District Three:  
Male: **Damon Ledger (17)**  
Female: **Adrienne Sadel (14)

**District Four: **

**Male: **Ozean (Oz) Agua (17)**  
Female: **Orca Swanson (14)

**District Five:  
Male: **Charme Salas (18)**  
Female: **Robyn (16)

**District Six:  
Male: **Cal Roberts (18)**  
****Female: **Myliana Rose (17)

**District Seven:  
Male: **Connor Lizben (18)**  
Female: **Lillybet Norris (15)

**District Eight:  
Male: **Jayden 'Jay' Crush (13)**  
Female: **Samanta Amor (12)

**District Nine:  
Male: **Felix (18)**  
Female: **Luna Night (17)

**District Ten:  
Male: **Veck Evans (18)**  
Female: **Cordealia 'Corrie' Liviston (18)**  
**

**District Eleven:  
Male: **Blaise McCormac (18)**  
****Female: **Matilda Neare (12)

**District Twelve: **  
**Male: **Ian Drees (18)  
**Female: **Jocelyn Bennett (14)

And finally, the list of District Occupations as used in this fanfic. Most should be right, others I've gathered from… everywhere.

**One: **Luxury Goods

**Two: **Medicine/Doctors

**Three: **Technology/Electronics/That kind of crap**  
Four: **Fishing**  
Five: **Math**  
Six: **Scientific Research**  
Seven: **Lumber/Paper

**Eight:** Textiles

**Nine: **Hunters**  
Ten: **Cattle Herding**  
Eleven: **Agriculture**  
Twelve: **Coal Mining


	2. The Dream Sequence

**Okay, while we wait for the tributes to pour in, here's a dream sequence from the POV of an unknown character :) **

**Of course, Hunger Games isn't mine. And neither are any of the characters. The 'ghost' children are, however.**

**. . .**

Several feet in front of me, I can see a little girl playing with two ribbons, one red and one blue. She's wearing a black striped dress, black leggings and black shoes, so it's very hard to see her through all of the fog.

"Hello?" I call out to her.

She turns towards me, drops her ribbons and takes off in the other direction. I follow after her, feeling she has something I need. The girl is very fast, and I find myself struggling to keep up. Very suddenly, she disappears. I skid to a stop and look around. I know she is here somewhere.

A bit of a ways away, I spot something else. A blonde girl climbing out of a hole in a tree trunk. She must be very poor, I think, because her jumper is tattered and patched, and so is the shirt underneath it. Along with this, she is missing her shoes, if she had any in the first place.

I approach her slowly, "who are you?" 

"Time's running out! Come with me!" She grabs my hand and drags me behind her.

We trip and stumble among the trees until she dives into a rabbit hole I cannot fit inside. Again, the girl is gone. Sighing, I continue to walk, hoping to find the girl with the ribbons again. I come across a clearing. Dew has settled on the fresh spring grass and it all smells like burnt wood. In the center of the clearing is a rock, and sitting on the rock is a girl.

This girl has her brown hair braided in two clean braids that hang down her back. She has on an elegant pink gown and a delicate silver tiara. She wears no shoes as well and is crying profusely.

I walk over to her, standing in front of her, "why are you crying?"

"All is lost! They all have died!" She wails, motioning around us.

I turn, confused because nobody had been there, and see what she means. Hanging in perfect intervals around the clearing were the bodies of twenty three children. Among them, the girl in with the ribbons and the girl with the blonde hair. Tied around their necks were thick ropes. All were dead.

The girl stood up and I could see her face clearly for the first time. She was the President's daughter- Italia Forbs. And as she pulls a knife from her dress, I black out.

And when I wake up, it is reaping day.


	3. District One Reapings

**We now have the District One slots filled, so the reaping may begin! **

**Don't forget, if you haven't already- submit a tribute! We need some younger ones, especially 12 and 13 year olds!**

**Translation- y'ins is Western-Pa's version of y'all. Mainly heard in the area between Pittsburgh and Eerie. **

**. . .**

_Jason_

"Jason, you're never going to be ready in time if you don't wake up!"

The soft voice that roused me from my sleep was that of my older sister, Paris. Snuggled in her arms and sucking on a pacifier was her month old baby, Leocadia. Unfortunately, the baby had picked up the very male nickname Leo because our grandfather cannot for the life of him remember the child's name, or that she's a girl.

"Jason, come on." Paris whispers, lifting my crimson dress shirt with her foot and kicking it towards me, "hurry before Grandfather gets upset."

Paris and I have lived with our grandfather, Indie, since before I can remember. They have always told me how our parents had done something awful and we executed, but I don't think I'll ever find out what that was. Not that I care, anyways. I never knew them.

I sigh, heave myself out of bed, and start to get dressed. I pull on my dress shirt and button up the black buttons. The shirt's color reminds me of fresh blood, which I find ironic and darkly humorous, especially knowing what today is. I slide into a pair of black dress slacks. All that's left are my shoes, which are nowhere to be found. I drop onto the floor, hunting around under my bed for the stupid things. With a shout of victory, I snatch the shoes from behind an old puzzle and shove my feet into them. They're a size too small, but I'm too stubborn to let Paris buy me a new pair.

"Jason, come on!" Paris shrieks.

"God, I'm coming." I yell back, running my fingers through my messy blonde hair one last time before exiting my room.

"What took you so long, Jason? When I was a kid, I was down when I was told to be down!" Grandfather scolds, hitting me on the back of the knee with his cane.

"Sorry. When Paris cleaned my room last she stuck my shoes under the bed." I explain, shooting my sister a look.

"Don't look at me like that! Your room was a pigsty so I was cleaning it up!" Paris shouts, balancing Leocadia on her hip while pointing an accusing finger at me.

I brush her off, "Okay, sis. We got to get going or we'll be late. This is my year, I want to shine."

Grandfather slaps my back, "there's my boy. I knew you'd make the right choice and volunteer."

I smile, but it falters. Volunteering isn't exactly what I meant. When I turned fourteen two weeks ago, my name was in the mandatory three times and an extra six times for the tessera. That's more times than any kid I know, because most of us here in District One don't need to take it. But grandfather is too old to work anymore and Paris's jewelry she makes never sold for much anyways. With Leo joining our family, I had to do something to keep Paris and her eating.

_I can work, though. _I think as we begin the ten minute walk to the square. I can, and I do. I repair and polish jewelry. Most of my clients are little kids who broke their mother's earrings and want it fixed before she finds out, but on occasion an actual jeweler would come for my assistance. But those occasions are as rare as the extra slips.

"Okay, Jason, we'll see you afterwards. Maybe we can buy a carton of strawberries and bake them in a cake." Paris is talking, but I'm not listening. I'm distracted by the scent of teenaged girl.

A girl not much older than me stands a foot or so away, kissing a small child I can assume to be a sibling or a cousin goodbye. She signs the piece of paper that sits on a folding table and goes to join a group of seventeen year olds. I know her from school. She's three grades ahead of me, but that doesn't keep me from being a fourteen year old boy. Her name is Anna Spiera and she's a goddess.

"Be careful." Paris kisses my cheek.

"Moomoo." That's the closest thing to ' I love you' that Leo can say, so I kiss her forehead and pinch her cheeks.

"Moomoo to you too."

She claps and giggles. Paris carts her away, joining her friends at the back of the crowd. Grandfather gives me an awkward clap on the shoulder before sauntering off. Shaking my head, I sign my name and go to the fourteen year old section. I stand in a clump of boys I don't know and wait.

On the makeshift stage are nine chairs- two for Mayor Clearwater and our escort Marion Frostbite, five for our living victors and two for the tributes. Mayor Clearwater goes through the normal routine- reading the history of Panem, telling of the Dark Days and how from them rose the atrocity of the Hunger Games. For a select few of us it's about the glory. For the rest, it's all about getting home. He reads the long list of victors and finally is able to take his seat.

Taking his place at the podium is Marion, a dangerously excitable woman who escorted District Two until three years ago. Marion is a sort of sexy you wouldn't expect from somebody in the capitol. She has a narrow, pointed face, dark red eyes and long orange hair that she styles so it is curled and flips over her face. Paired with her capitol accent, she's a bit ridiculous.

"Happy Hunger Games, District One! Let's remind people this year that we are Number One!" She shrieks, clapping her hands enthusiastically.

A few girls up front clap, but most of us stay silent. Even here, dying is still dying; murder still murder. I roll my eyes. She's so stupid.

"So, how's about we get to it, then? Ladies!" Marion trots over to the bowl with the girls' names in them, practically bouncing off of her six inch heels. She reaches in, swirls her hand around and pulls out a slip of paper, holding it between her claws as if it could burst into flames at any second, "Barica Martins!"

A twelve year old girl makes her way to the stage slowly. Barica has bright blue eyes and straight blonde hair. Tears are trickling down her face and it doesn't look like she trusts her feet.

"Do we have any volunteers, ladies?"

"Me. I'll do it." A hand rises out of the crowd.

"Well why don't you just come on up here, then?"

In the seventeen year old section, there's a quick shift in the masses. A girl makes her way up the steps slowly, carefully, as if she's afraid they'll hear her coming.

"Well, what's your name, honey?"

"Anna Spiera."

Oh no. I've been punched in the face before, but it felt nothing like this. Samira was too perfect to fight in the games. Too… delicate, like one of Paris's porcelain dolls. She's holding her head high, her chest moving heavily, arms hanging limply at her sides. I know that position. It's the position of somebody who is trying to be strong, trying to keep back the tears. It's the position of somebody who is out of options and out of time.

Idiot. "And now for our boy tribute!" I hate that she says that. Boy. Ladies and boys. Sexist much?

I don't even hear the boy's name. As soon as he's reached the stage I volunteer to take his place.

"Ooh, I _love_ y'ins enthusiasm today!" She giggles as I join them on stage, "now what's your name honey-bunch?"

"Jason. Jason Clarke." I pant.

"Well, Jason Clarke, smile for the cameras!" Marion laughs again and motions for us to sit down.

Mayor Clearwater takes the stage, falling into the ritual reading of the Treaty of Treason. I'm not listening to his words, though. I'm watching Anna. She has focused on a spot far away and is staring at it intensely, as if in a trance. And then he's done and we're standing up.

I shake her hand, give her a nod that hopefully reassures her, and allow myself to be lead away.

We are forced inside the Justice Building, up the old elevator and into separate rooms. The room is plush and draped in red velvet and whitewood. Blood and colorless flesh are what I think of.

My first visitors are my family. Grandfather stands near the door, his head down and his arms crossed. Paris sits in the chair next to me, her eyes puffy, Leo squirming in her arms.

"Jason, this is the stupidest, most idiotic thing you've ever done." Paris sniffles before pulling me down into a hug, "and I'm so proud of you."

Leo holds her arms out to me expectantly and I take her from Paris's arms, "Miss Leocadia, promise to take care of Paris and Grandfather while I'm away?"

Leo grabs my nose and giggles, "Jason."

"She said my name!" I gasp.

"Jason!" The giggle turns into a wail and Leocadia tugs on my hair.

"No, Leo." I hand her back to Paris.

The peacekeepers come and collect them. I spend the rest of my time alone.

**. . .**

_Anna_

I left my house early this morning. I felt the need to go to the meadow, to be alone. Father is probably awake by now, infuriated by my absence. When we meet in the square today he might hit me. The though doesn't bother me anymore, though. I've become accustomed to his constant abuse. I just don't need that today, so I came to the meadow. Waiting in the meadow, a speck of black among a sea of white flowers, is the one person that I can consider a friend. No, not a friend, a very close acquaintance. I don't have time for friends.

The black speck's name is Vine and I can see that she brought us breakfast. Toasted bread, a jar of blackberry jam and strips of bacon. In my hand is a pitcher of orange juice and two plastic cups. We've been doing the same routine for two months- on weekends and holidays we meet in the meadow for breakfast. Vine brings the food and I bring the drinks. It's very nice, even though Vine barely speaks. Vine's silence is my real friend, I consider as I sit next to her in the flowers.

"Good morning." Her voice cracks. Vine is eighteen. She has to survive today and she's free from the threat of the Games forever, "eight slips."

I know what she means instantly. She has eight slips in the glass bowl. She's worried.

"Today I have to face six slips of paper with my name on them and the ever-insane Marion Frostbite and her scream of doom. Not just that, but all of Panem. I know that I'm going to be called. And if I'm not, I'm volunteering. According to my father, it's my job to bring respect back to our family." I pour the juice and hand Vine her cup.

For a few minutes we eat and sip in silence. The sun has risen and spills a golden light on our meal. I set down my toast and look at Vine. She's been staring at me. Turning quickly, the girl hands me a hairbrush and a silver clip. I nod and take the objects from her hands. In silence we sit, munching and sipping while I brush the tangles from Vine's hair. When we finish, I put the clip in so that her hair will stand up like a bunch of spikes.

I brush crumbs from my dress, adjust the green ribbon around my waist, and look around. It's nearing midmorning already, so we gather up our scraps and walk back to the group home where Vine lives. After today, she knows she'll be free.

I wait outside the large brick building, knowing that if I go inside the Head, a very fat woman with the shortest fuse in the universe, will chase me out with a bat. Vine is in and out, and we take a silent walk to the square. Normally I love visiting the square; it's so quaint and lively at times, with the lesser merchants selling jewelry they make, sometimes trading when people don't have money. But I think reaping day spoils it for everyone.

I see Jason Clarke, a fourteen year old who stares at me a lot in school, saying goodbye to his family. He says he's going to volunteer, too. Oh joy. I sign my name and turn as one of the little girls from the home, a five year old named Yuri, comes running up to me.

"Anna!" She throws her arms around my leg.

I bend down and kiss her on the forehead, "hey Yuri. You need to go with the others." I whisper, scooting her away.

I don't like people. Vine is really the only exception.

Shaking my head, I go and join the seventeen year olds near the front of the square. The beginning is excruciatingly long. Mayor Clearwater reads the history of Panem, rattles off a long list of victors, and finally turns the mike over to Marion Frostbite, District One's insane escort.

"Happy Hunger Games, District One! Let's remind people this year that we're Number One!" She screams. As if we can't already hear her as it is.

A few girls around me clap, but most of us are silent. It's still dying, no matter where you're from.

"So, how's about we get to it, then? Ladies!" Marion trots over to the bowl with the girls' names in them, practically bouncing off of her six inch heels. She reaches in, swirls her hand around and pulls out a slip of paper, holding it between her claws pink claws dangerously, "Barica Martins!"

A twelve year old girl makes her way to the stage slowly. Barica has bright blue eyes and straight blonde hair. Tears are trickling down her face and I can tell she's about to faint. Barica… she's a friend of my cousins. I take a deep breath, preparing myself.

"Do we have any volunteers, ladies?"

"Me. I'll do it." I raise my hand. All or nothing.

"Well why don't you just come on up here, then?"

There's a quick shift in the masses. I make my way towards the stage slowly and silently. All eyes are on me.

"Well, what's your name, honey?" Marion asks, putting a hand on my shoulder. We're right at each other's eye level. I hope she knows I don't want her hand on me. I don't want anybody's hands on me. I don't want to be touched. I just want to come home.

"Anna Spiera." I say, trying not to hiss while I'm at it.

"Well, Anna, congrat-u-lations!" Marion claps stupidly and I watch as Barica stumbles off of the stage, rejoining her friends at the back, clinging to them desperately.

"And now for our boy tribute!" I snicker. Boys and ladies. Must be a Capitol thing, "Jared Seer!"

A boy from the thirteen year old section begins to move, but somebody else has already volunteered.

"Ooh, I _love_ y'ins enthusiasm today!" She giggles as the volunteer joins us on stage, "now what's your name honey-bunch?"

It's Jason. Far in the back, I can see his sister Paris choke up and escape with her baby. I swallow hard. Keeping a convincing façade is becoming irregularly difficult.

"Jason. Jason Clarke." He says, his voice stressed.

"Well, Jason Clarke, smile for the cameras!" Marion laughs again and motions for us to sit down.

I sit and focus on a point far away from here- the tree in my back yard. I can see it from my seat on the stage if I look hard enough. The one I carved up so much it's a miracle it's still standing. The one I fell out of when I was little, breaking my ankle. It never healed properly because father wouldn't take me to the doctor.

And just like that I'm up and shaking Jason's hand. He nods at me, curtly almost. Jerk. Peacekeepers herd us inside the Justice Buildings. We are shown to separate rooms where we will say our final goodbyes.

"One hour." The Peacekeeper tells me.

Its ten minutes before my father comes in. "Anna, I have to say, I'm proud of you for wishing to redeem our family's name."

He holds a hand out to me. I stare at it, half expecting him to hit me, but he doesn't. He waits. So I extend my own and shake his. A handshake. This is the closest thing to affection I've ever seen my father display.

We sit in silence for ten minutes before the Peacekeeper takes him away. The man almost seems shocked to see no tears. I turn my head down and play with the charm bracelet around my wrist. It was my mothers. I'm wearing it in the arena. If I die, I want to be buried with it.

Vine comes in, but she's not talkative either. We sit in silence, the quite probably saying more than we could. When it comes time for her to leave, too, she gives me a hug and runs out. A hug. A handshake. People sure do love me.

I sit in silence and am almost glad when we have to go to the train. The sooner I come home, the better.


	4. District Two Reapings

**Here is the District Two Reaping! I'm sorry it took so long to get this up, it takes me a while to get these to look nice. I'm thinking that from now on, just to cut down on space between chapters, the reapings will be just the reapings and visitations. Then maybe I can stick multiple reapings in one chapter and get on with the story.**

**Disclaimer: I disclaim the characters and I disclaim the Hunger Games. **

**WARING: Grayson has a tendency to… swear. As does his sister. And Caden. What is seen in the story is milder than their originals. You have been warned. **

**. . .**

_Grayson (Gray)_

"Gray, I swear to god I'm going to fecking murder you if you don't get up!" Caitlyn, my ever loving sister, is the only person in the world who could possibly wake me up.

I crack open my eyes and see the time- 9:00 am. On the dot. Priss.

"God Caitlyn, I get it. You're on your damn period and you feel the need to take it out on me." I joke, sitting up and running my hand through my hair. I grimace when I feel the good layer of grease settled in it. God I need a shower.

Caitlyn rolls her eyes immaturely, "get a shower you lazy ass pig. Mom's cooking breakfast."

I smile as Caitlyn slams my door shut. I roll out of bed and saunter into the bathroom. We don't have a very good supply of hot water, but I prefer cold showers anyway. I take a quick shower- just long enough to wash my hair and smell fairly decent. As soon as I'm out, I towel dry my short black hair and start to get ready.

I don a plain white dress shirt, a pair of long khaki shorts and my good shoes. Just to add a bit of me to the otherwise boring outfit, I slip on a good denim jacket. As soon as I'm sure I don't look stupid, I exit my bedroom and go into the main living area… thing. Mom calls it a 'great room'. I call it stupid.

"Good morning Gray. Good to see you up." Mom calls from the kitchen, a smile on her otherwise worn face.

Mom hasn't even bothered to change out of her scrubs because even though reaping day means no school or work for most people, Mom's still needed at the hospital. That's where she'll be going as soon as Caitlyn and I get home- back to work.

"What's breakfast?" I ask, sitting down at the kitchen table.

"I made some strawberry pancakes. I know they're your favorite, and it is a special occasion." Mom smiles. She tries so hard to make up for our lack of a father. Between that and her long hours at the hospital, she looks more like a 40-something compared to the 34 year old she really is.

"Thanks mom." I smile, but it feels forced.

"No problem sweetie." Mom pecks my forehead and sets a place in front of me. She quickly returns with plates for herself and Caitlyn.

I dig into the pancakes, savoring every chunk of strawberry as if it were my last. Of course, I'm sure they'll have more than enough strawberries in the Capitol, if I end up going.

"Geeze, I thought you had more manners than that Gray." Caitlyn sneers.

"Shut up." I state, wiping any remaining pancake from my mouth and storming out of the house.

My best friend, Caden, was waiting outside. She actually looked like a girl for once- trading in her usual dark t-shirt and torn up jeans for a dark red dress. Her black hair was straightened in the front- her bangs falling on either side of her narrow face- and in the back it was skillfully spiked. Of course. Caden can never go 100% girl. Ever. I think that's why Caitlyn, the girl with the straight blonde hair and perma-pink everything, hates her so much.

"So, Gray, are you nervous?" Caden asks as we walk to the square.

"Me? Nope." I smile. Because if I don't smile I'll crack and I can't do that in front of her.

"Me neither." Of course she isn't. Caden stopped caring a long time ago.

We walk down the street in silence. I think of what I will say to Caden if she gets reaped, what she will say to me if the fate falls on me.

"Well, I guess I'll see you after." Caden waves goodbye and goes to the roped off section for girls our age.

I wave at her dismally before joining the guys. They stand around me, joking about if I'm with Caden yet. I shake them off. They don't understand the bond I have with that girl. _They never will_, I think dully.

The Mayor begins his long drawl at the stroke of ten. He begins reading of the fires, floods and other disasters that destroyed what was once North America, and how out of the ashes rose Panem, a shining utopia made of the Capitol City and the Thirteen Districts. Then start the Dark Days- the District's rebellion against the Capitol. There is mentioning of a small uprising that happened 75 years later, but nothing supposedly came out of it.

"And now, without further ado, Chelsie Pink!"

Let me tell you, Chelsie's name does not match her hair. She has bright orange hair the size of a small child that falls almost to her knees. She wears a skintight black dress with this ugly white ruffle thing running down the sides.

"Happy Hunger Games District two!" Chelsie has a voice as quiet as it is high, so she needs the microphone, unlike the escort we had a few years back who screamed all the time, "and here's to another year of victory!"

_Oh right_, I think, _we won last year_. Whoopde-fricking-doo.

"How about we mix it up a bit this year and start with the male tributes?"

Fun.

Chelsie bounces across the stage to the bowl swimming with white slips of paper. I think of my four slips and how maybe Caden and I don't have any reason to worry. I've never had to take a tessera. Maybe this year I'll be lucky for once.

"Grayson Reese? Is Grayson Reese out there?" Or not.

**. . .**

_Ebony Darknight_

"Is Grayson Reese out there?" Chelsie Pink asks, her gloved hand poised above her eyes in a 'lookout' position.

I look back as a boy from the fifteen section walks up to the stage. He finger guns the crowd and winks. I've seen him around the district. He's a quiet kind of guy, and his only real friend is this freak named Caden.

"Well hello Grayson." Grayson towers over her but she doesn't seem intimidated. He smiles at her and she bursts into a fit of giggles. I roll my eyes. "So, uh, females next."

She walks back down the stage and I can feel an uncomfortable knot forming in my stomach. I twist the engagement ring on my finger- a habit I've gotten into since Lucas proposed a month ago. _What if I'm chosen and nobody volunteers? _I think worriedly. People normally don't volunteer for eighteen year olds when they're chosen. They think we can handle it on our own. But I'm so afraid.

"Ebony Darknight. Ooh, pretty name. Uh, is Ebony Darknight out there?"

My mind is racing at 100 miles an hour. Me. I force myself to look normal as I walk up the steps. It takes all of my energy to just tell myself to move. _Right foot, left foot. Right foot, left foot. _Repeatedly until I'm standing next to Grayson. He's still a few inches taller than me, despite an age difference of three years.

"Well, District Two, give you newest tributes a round of applause."

A few people clap, but most just stare. They don't want to clap for us. I know most of the faces in the crowd beyond the children- they were at my parent's funeral when they died. They know about Leita or Lucas or maybe they don't. Maybe they know Grayson or his twin sister or his mom. Or maybe they just care enough to pay their respects with silence.

Because you don't clap at funerals. You don't applaud people for dying. You salute them with your silence.

We sit through the rest of the readings. I try to find Lucas in the crowd but he's nowhere to be seen. So I focus on Caden, the girl with the streaked hair and the hard eyes. She looks truly upset. And then I'm told to stand and Grayson shakes my hand. I let him lead. His eyes are empty, drained of all sense.

A squad of peacekeepers shows us inside to say our final goodbyes. They show Grayson to a room and send me to one down the hall. I sit down and barely have time to complete a thought before Lucas comes in, pulling a sobbing Leita in behind him. Leita crawls onto my lap and cries on my shoulder.

"Don't go Ebony!" She wails.

I rub her back, trying to comfort her. "I really don't think I have a choice honey."

Leita wails louder, clinging to me like a leech. I give Lucas a begging look. "Lucas…"

Lucas pries Leita off of me and sets her in the chair next to me. "Ebony, I'll take care of her. I'll make sure she eats properly and keeps up with her exercises. I won't let her get sick like your parents did. I promise you. And when you come home, we'll get married."

I place my hand on Lucas's face, running my thumb across his cheek, "But what if I don't come-"

Lucas puts his hand on mine, "don't think like that. You can come home. You've got what it takes."

I lean forward and plant a kiss on his lips, trying to block out Leita's sobs, "alright."

The peacekeeper comes and we're yelling our 'love you's.' The door slams shut. A minute later, Grayson's sister comes in. Her eyes aren't red or puffy. Either she hasn't seen him yet or she doesn't care.

"Ebony, I'm going to say something to you and I'm going to say it fast, got it?" She starts.

"Okay." I nod stiffly, wiping ghost tears from my face.

"When you're in the arena with my brother, make sure you make it painful for him. I want you to be the one that delivers the killing blow. I want him to be betrayed by somebody from his own district because I won't have the pleasure of destroying the bastard myself. Got it?" Caitlyn's words are sharp, like tiny daggers poking at my skin.

"W-what?" I stammer. What is she asking me? Isn't Grayson her brother?

"You heard me Ebony. Kill my brother."

And the Caitlyn turns away and leaves. That was weird.

**. . .**

_Gray_

Caden is in to see me before my family even is. She stands across the room, arms crossed, waiting for me to say something. Or maybe she's trying to think of something to say to me.

"If I were to die tomorrow, what would you tell me?" She asks abruptly, her brown eyes are on nothing but me.

"You're going to die tomorrow." I give half of a smile.

"No, smartass!" Caden snaps, taking two quick steps over to me, "if you've got any deep dark secrets, tell me now."

I grimace, look away from the intensity of her eyes, and find myself looking back, "I'd tell you that I love how our hands were made to be together. I'd say that I love everything about you. I'd say that I love you and I love that you're my soul mate." I take a deep breath, "and I'd kiss you like the world was ending."

"Then do it! God I've been waiting so long to hear you say something remotely romantic to me since I was like five! If you mean what you say, Reese, then do it! Kiss me!" Caden challenges.

I put my hand on the back of her head and start to, but it feels wrong so I remove my hand and move back, "I can't. It feels… wrong."

"Oh for the love of hell." Caden grabs my head and kisses me, taking me by complete surprise. _Since when does Caden get all touchy-feely? _

"Holy shit Cade." I murmur, "Since when do you have emotions."

Caden punches me in the shoulder, "as far as anybody else is concerned, I don't. And don't ever fucking call me Cade again, got it?"

"God it Cade."

She punches my shoulder again and leaves. And she was my only visitor.


	5. District Three and Four Reapings

**Like I promised, I'm going to be doing these a bit differently so I can get the reapings done quickly (because who wants twelve chapters worth of the same thing?)**

**And if you want your say in the arena, vote in the poll on my profile! The poll will be open until the Interviews. **

**I'm sorry if these are sort of… weird. I'm not feeling well but wanted to get this out asap.**

**Disclaimer: I disclaim the characters. They belong to other people. The Hunger Games isn't mine either**

**. . .**

_**District Three**_

_Damon Ledger_

"Okay dad, bye. I'll see you afterwards." I listen to the kid standing behind me, giving her dad his goodbyes.

I take a deep breath and move away. It hurts to hear the kids tell their parents goodbye. But I don't need parents, I think as I turn to my 'kids'.

"Myyrah, you're in charge until Tag and I get back, okay?" I instruct, patting the eleven year old on the head.

"Okay." Myyrah takes the hands of Evaline and Haven, Haven taking little Skirret's hand.

I turn to Tag, the only one of them old enough for reapings besides myself, "ready?"

He shakes his head quickly. I chuckle and lead him to the section for thirteen year olds. He quickly disappears among the taller kids and I go up front to my section.

I zone out through the usual drawl of Mayor Mason's readings. I'm thinking about the special dinner I have prepared for the kids back home, how we're going to eat like kings and celebrate because we're all alive for one more year. I don't surface from these thoughts until Proserpine, our incredibly insane escort, takes the mike in her long fingers.

This year her hair- which is dyed in shades of pink, white, purple and blue- is curled tightly around her face, making her blue eyes look bigger than ever. She has on a black skintight tank top and a short skirt that is pink and blue and tapers down to her knees in the back.

"Happy Hunger Games District three!" She shouts, delivering her signature, "let the odds be in our favor this year!"

She bounce across the stage, "ladies first, then?"

She mixes up the slips and pulls one at random, "Adrienne Sadel?"

A girl from the fourteen year old section walks up to the stage. She was muscular and angry looking. Great.

"Well hello Adrienne. Are you ready to find out who your fellow tribute is?"

I can see Adrienne say 'no' but we don't get a chance to hear her because Proserpine is already across the stage, plucking a name out. I think of all of the times I've signed up for tessera, and how Tag insisted he take two for himself so it all wouldn't be on me. I bit my lip and close my eyes, hoping the impossible really is impossible.

"Damon Ledger!" Its possible.

I make my way up to the stage. I can hear my kids crying out. I look to the back and can see a group of boys keeping Tag from bursting forward to volunteer. Those boys know Tag is the oldest now. The girls need Tag. _But is that enough?_

_Adrienne Sadel_

"Adrienne Sadel!" Proserpine I-forget-her-last-name calls shrilly, her squeaky accent killing my name.

I walk up on stage slowly. I'm prepared but I'm angry. We haven't had a tribute my age since I can remember. Why does it have to be me? I mean, I've built myself up so I'm ready, but why so early?

"Well hello Adrienne! Are you ready to find out who your fellow tribute is?" Proserpine asks me enthusiastically.

"No." I say, but she doesn't hear me.

She prances across stage and pulls out a boy's slip, "Damon Ledger!"

A seventeen year old joins me on stage. He has curly brown hair and teengirlitis hits me as I find myself wanting to run my fingers through it. I shake my head. No. As I lift my eyes to the crowd, I can see a group of boys sustaining a smaller boy in the thirteens section. _That must be Damon's little brother. _I consider.

We sit down; listen to the lengthy Treaty of Treason. We're told to stand. I shake Damon's hand. A squad of peacekeepers descends on us and shows us into the Justice Building. They force us into separate rooms to say our goodbyes.

My dad comes in only a few minutes later. His expression is unreadable.

"Dad?" I whisper, standing up.

"Be brave." He begins, "be brave, get a knife. Dazzle them, my little cabbage. They'll love you." Dad kisses my forehead.

"I don't want them to love me." I mumble taking a step forward and embracing him, resting my head against his chest, "love you dad."

"I love you too." Dad kisses my forehead and we stand together until the peacekeepers take him away.

My next visitor is my mother. We haven't been on good terms since she and dad divorced. She traded in my father, who is a hard working, honest man, for a fat, rich merchant who does nothing for himself.

"Adrienne." She says stiffly, holding her head high, like she is above me.

"Mother." I turn away. Just the sight of her, in her nice yellow dress and her prissy white gloves and her little yellow hat; it sickens me.

"Adrienne, darling." I feel a gloved hand on my shoulder. Silk. Mother heaves a tiny sigh, "darling I'm so afraid for you."

"I don't want your sympathy mother." I snap, still not looking at her.

Mother lets out a dainty sob and I roll my eyes. How stupid does she think I am? But when I turn around to tell her off, I see real, genuine tears, not the 'crocodile tears' I used to get what I wanted when I was little. Tears that said she really cared.

"Adrienne, honey, please. I want you to take this into the arena with you." Mother unfastens the necklace from around her neck and holds it out to me.

I'm tempted to take it. It's a dainty silver thing with bits of some blue gem dangling off of it. It was Mother's favorite necklace, and when I was little, touching it meant a telling-off and a time out. But my hand quickly flies to the necklace around my own neck- fake silver with a pink tourmaline gem set into it. My grandmother gave it to me, who got it from her grandmother, who got it from hers, and so-on and so-forth.

"No. I'm taking grandma's necklace." I state.

"Oh. Okay then." I can see the muscles in mother's neck tense. She re-fastens the necklace and stands there awkwardly until she, too, has to leave.

**. . . . . . . .**

_**District Four Reaping**_

_Ozean 'Oz' Agua _

I turned to my family and smiled, the tension of the day rolling off my shoulders in waves. This is going to be the year that I step up if my name is not called. Of course, I haven't exactly told my family yet.

"We'll see you later son." Dad says, clapping me on the shoulder.

Mom pecks my cheek. I bend down and hug my siblings that are too young to be reaped- eight year old Posi and ten year old Osea. Mom and Dad lead them away, to the section for people too old or too young to get reaped.

I turn to my remaining sibling, Storm, whose silvery hair has been put in two pigtails for the occasion. I hold my arm out to her, "Stormy."

"I told you Oz, don't call me Stormy. It's a stupid little kid name." Storm protests, pushing my arm away, "and I don't need you toting me around. You turn my friends into sputtering idiots."

I hold my hands up in defeat, "Fine, fine. Go with your friends, I'll talk to you later."

I smile and wave at her as she walks away. I myself go towards the front of the square, locating the section for seventeen year olds with ease. We chat quietly through the opening ceremonies, up to the point where our new escort will be announced. We have a new one this year, and nobody particularly liked our last one, so we're excited. They decided to 'spice it up' this year by not showing us her face until the reapings.

"And, District Four, it is my honor to introduce our new escort, Tigress Doe!"

We give her a sincere round of applause as she bounces onto the stage. And I can honestly say she is the most outrageous escort I've ever seen. She has on a short blue skirt, neon blue tights and a white t-shirt under a furry blue vest. And her clothes aren't her weirdest attribute. Atop her head are two furry white ears and I can see a white tail swishing behind her.

"Well, happy Hunger Games District four!" She gives an enthusiastic clap, but we're done applauding her, "let's get started, shall we?"

She struts down the stage to the bowl with the girl's names. My suspicions are confirmed, she truly has a tail.

"Man, normally the escorts are kind of lame, but ours it _hot_." One of my friends comments with a snicker.

"Oh yeah." I smirk and watch her ears twitch as she draws the girl's name.

"Our female tribute this year is… Orca Swanson!"

A little girl climbs onto the stage. _She can't be any older than thirteen_, I think. She's wearing a green dress with a black belt around her middle. Her brown hair is tied in two pigtails on top of her head.

She stands there, lips pursed, as we all wait in anticipation for Tigress to call the next tribute's name

_Orca Swanson_

"Orca Swanson!"

What? No. Some of my friends push me forward. I take a deep breath, adjust my belt, tighten my pigtails, and walk onto stage. My lips are pursed so I can keep from crying.

"Now, let's get our next tribute!" Tigress dances across the stage and I find my eyes drawn to the furry ears atop her head. "This year's male tribute is… Ozean Agua!"

I lift my head as I see a seventeen year old boy come onto stage. He has a deep tan, long brown hair, and the weirdest eyes I've ever seen. He has one green eye and one blue eye. He had on a t-shirt, grey slacks and a jacket.

We're directed to sit through the last bit of ceremony. When I stand to shake his hand, there's nothing close to sympathy in his eyes. _He's going to kill me_. I think desperately.

And after that, we say our goodbyes. Mom and I held each other until they had to force us apart. I wanted Devi to be there with me. She would've said something that could come off as encouraging. Instead, I'm stuck with mom, sputtering and crying our eyes out.

I may only look innocent, but I need somebody to be there for me where mom and dad have failed.

**. . .**

**I'm sorry if it seems like this chapter got cut short. Again, I've been under the weather. I also have a crapload of stuff to do this week. I've got a church thing tomorrow, my birthday is Monday (Fourteen baby!), and the rest of the week is dedicated to playing and beating the crap out of my new video games. Though I will try to get something up between. **


	6. District Five and Six Reapings

**Districts Five and Six, coming right up! **

**And if you can tell me what internet villain District Six's escort is imitating you win an internet!**

**Disclaimer: I disclaim the characters, The Hunger Games, and the brilliance that is the Submit a Tribute challenge**

**. . .**

_**District Five**_

_Charme Salas _

"Come on Charme! Come on, come on, come on!" Kyle pulls on my arm as we walk to the square. It is his first reaping, and he's surprisingly excited about it. I don't remember being this excited. We're victor's children; we're bound to get reaped. Normally a victor's child would be terrified, but I've never been, and neither is my brother.

"I'm coming Kyle." I chuckle and roll my eyes, "You're acting like this is your last reaping."

"Well it could be." He points out before running off with a group of his friends.

I shake my head before maneuvering to the front of the crowd where the other eighteen year olds are. They're talking loudly about how after today they're free from the reapings today. As I join them, they slap me on the back.

"Charme, hey dude. You glad to be free?" One of my friends asks, a stupid smirk on his face.

"I'm not going to be free. If I'm not reaped I'm volunteering." I shrug it off as if it's no big deal.

"Well, Robyn won't be very happy with this turn of events." Another one jokes, elbowing me in the stomach. I give him a right hook to the jaw.

"Don't talk about her around me. I broke up with that cheating whore a month ago." I snap.

"And she still worships you." Bryce, one of the few people whose name I've bothered to learn, points out, "every day in school all I hear first period is 'Bryce, tell Charme I'm sorry!' and 'It was an accident! Valentino was helping me up and slipped!'."

I punch his shoulder, "shut up. They're starting."

Mayor Myrrh steps up to the podium and begins the reaping ceremony. He goes through the readings rather quickly and seems eager to introduce Flick, our newest escort.

"Hello, hello, hello District Five! Happy Hunger Games to you all!" He cheers.

Flick is a poor excuse for a male. He has bright pink permed hair, bright blue eyes and every year he wears a white outfit that glitters in the sunlight. He's more like a sad excuse for a vampire than a man. Or maybe he's a fairy…

"Ladies first, first, first!" Flick smiles stupidly as he bounces over to the girl's bowl.

He mixes up the slips, pulls one out, walks back to the podium and reads the name out loud. "Jane Letter."

Jane is a short sixteen-year-old with curly blonde hair and blue eyes. She reaches the stage barely suppressing tears. I know her face from school, but her eyes have never been so sad before. Normally they were shooting me dirty looks across the school yard or across the classroom. She and Robyn were very close.

"Any volunteers?"

"Me! I volunteer!"

Oh damn. Robyn walks onto stage, tears lingering in her grey eyes. She has on a pink dress that's obviously too big for her. She pushes Jane back, "I volunteer."

"No, Robyn!" Jane shrieks, grabbing her elbow.

Robyn shakes her off. "Go."

Jane retreats silently. She'd have been killed quickly. Robyn is a bit more of a threat.

"Now for the boys, boys, boys!" Flick smiles.

All or nothing. "Charme Salas!"

I set a scowl on my face as I make my way onto the stage. This way, I won't be seen as weak. I have to set myself apart from Robyn. District Partner or not, she's still the enemy. One of us has to represent our District properly.

After the remainder of the readings, we have to shake hands. Robyn is hesitant to shake my hand at first, but when she see's I'm not going to kill her yet, she pulls me into a half hug. I push her off of me and am glad when the peacekeepers take us away.

_**Robyn**_

I bite my lip as we approach the square. I've convinced myself that if I breathe deep enough, I can smell yesterday's rain. The clouds have lingered, but not enough remain for us to be moved to the Justice Building. I miss the rain.

"Robyn, sweetie, don't be afraid." Mom whispers, sweeping me up in a hug. I accept it. Mom's never been much of a hugger. "I'll be waiting for you with the boys."

"Okay mom."

I join the crowd of sixteen year olds, slipping in with my best friend, Jane. "Hey Robyn."

"Jane." I nod stiffly before we burst out laughing. Jane is the only person who can pull a sincere laugh from me anymore.

"Same agreement as always?" She asks as we turn forward, "no volunteering for the other."

"Right. No taking the other's place."

It was an odd agreement, but it had been Jane's idea. Our older brothers had been friends, like we are, and my brother had volunteered for hers. He died halfway through the games. That day Jane came over and made me swear to never volunteer for her. I promised, but only so she would calm down.

"Ladies first, first, first!" Flick calls, snapping me from my subconscious.

Whoa, where did time go?

"Jane Letter!"

No. How could Jane get picked? Her hand brushes my arm as she makes her way onto stage. This… how?

"Any volunteers?"

"Me! I volunteer!" I shout, stumbling up onto the stage.

I push Jane back, "I volunteer."

"No, Robyn!" Jane shrieks, grabbing her elbow.

Robyn shakes her off. "Go."

Jane retreats silently. I broke our deal, but for her own good only.

"And what's your name?" Flick asks.

"Robyn Sharpe." I stutter, forcing my name from my mouth.

"Now for the boys, boys, boys!" Flick smiles, "Charme Salas!"

Oh no. Not that jerk. Charme broke up with me a few weeks ago for no good reason. His friends annoy me to no end about it. Jane has been asking his friends about it, but to no avail. Charme comes onto the stage looking as arrogant as ever. After the final reading, they tell us to rise and shake hands. Hesitantly I take his hand in mine. When I sense he's not going to crush it, I take the extra step and pull him into a half hug. He pulls away and gives me a 'what?' look.

I'm going to play with his mind. I'm going to come home just so I can say that I beat Charme Salas once and for all.

They take us inside and my first instinct is to sit down. I don't get the chance because Jane comes rushing in, practically drowning me in her tears. After she finishes choking me, she slaps my arm. It actually hurt, which shows me how emotional she is. Jane's strength doesn't kick in unless she's upset or angry.

"How _could_ you?" She screams, "You broke your promise!"

"They'd tear you apart, Jane! Everybody in the district is twice your size, besides the little kids! You have no weapon training, no muscle mass, and nothing about you screams 'mass murderer'!" I shout, trying to make her see reason.

"They have training sessions! I could learn! And anyways, you saw what the arena did to your brother. That could happen to me, I could adapt to it!" Jane argues.

"No, Jane. You're too innocent. The slightest drop of blood makes you nauseous, let alone a pile of dead bodies! The arena would tear you apart." I'm now straining to keep my voice level. Yelling at her will do no good.

Jane hangs her head and lets out a choking noise. My shoulders slump and I wrap my arms around her, resting my head on hers. "Don't cry Jane. Please? I'll come home for you. I promise I'll make it up to you."

**. . .**

_**District Six **_

_Cal Roberts_

Become invisible. Become invisible. I take a deep breath before merging with the mass of eighteen year olds. I already dropped off my younger siblings in their sections. But I stood out there so I moved on very quickly. I can't be seen. I must be invisible.

At the stroke of eleven, the ceremonies begin. The History of Panem is read, the victors are read, and very quickly our escort has come onto stage. Her name is Beta. She has spiky pink hair sticking up at random angles. She always wears a striped tank top and a short black skirt. The strangest thing about this Capitol woman is that she never seems to touch the ground. Weird.

"Happy Hunger Games!" She cheers, "Who's ready to find out who our lucky tributes are this year?"

I snort. Lucky isn't the word that comes to mind.

"Our female tribute is… Anastacia Rose!" Beta claps enthusiastically as a girl in a puffy blue dress begins to climb onto stage. "Do we have any volunteers?" Beta asks.

"I volunteer!" A girl shouts, forcing her way onto stage from the seventeen year olds' section.

The two girls argue for a moment, and I note their similarities right down to the fact that they're wearing the same dress. _Twins. _I assume, or sisters at the least. The only notable difference is that Anastacia has brown hair and her sister has soft blonde hair.

"And who might you be darling?" Beta asks the volunteer.

"Myliana Rose."

"That was your twin, wasn't it?" Myliana gives a small nod. "Didn't want your sister to steal the glory, huh?"

Myliana fastens her jaw in a tight line. I begin analyzing her, trying to figure out if we might have a winner this year. Her arms and legs aren't very muscular, so she mustn't be very fast or strong. She has large, innocent eyes the color of a gemstone I read about once in a book- Lapis Lazuli, if I correctly recall. Underneath all the innocence, there's a fire in her eyes. Maybe that will be her strategy in the arena- act innocent until confronted and 'snap the trap' so to speak.

I'm so consumed in my own thoughts I don't hear the male tribute's name until it's called a second time, "Cal Roberts!"

Oh no.

_**Myliana Rose**_

"Anastacia Rose!"

My heart stops. Anastacia? No, no way!

"Do we have any volunteers?"

"I volunteer!" I shout, forcing my way onto the stage.

"No! Liana, what are you doing?" Anastacia whispers angrily as I reach her.

I grab her arm, "go back. I'm not letting you go into the arena."

She yanks her arm back, "well I'm not letting you take my place."

"I'm taking your place. You're my twin. It's my job." I snap, pushing her towards the makeshift stairs.

"This is stupid." She grumbles, walking back into the crowd.

"And who might you be darling?" Beta asks me, holding the microphone to my lips.

"Myliana Rose." I answer, wiping a stray tear from my cheek. _When did I start crying?_

"That was your twin, wasn't it?" I give a small nod. "Didn't want your sister to steal the glory, huh?"

I tighten my mouth in a line. That's not it at all. Does anybody understand?

"And now for our male tribute!" Beta floats over to the second bowl, reaches in and pulls out a slip. She returns to the podium and reads it out loud, "Cal Roberts!"

Nobody approached. Nobody moved. Cal Roberts? Why is that name so familiar? And where is he, anyways?

"Cal Roberts?" There's a bit of uncertainty in her voice.

Finally, an eighteen year old comes onto stage. He's not very scary looking- more brain than brawn, I guess. He's kind of handsome, but not drop-dead gorgeous.

"Do we have any volunteers? No? Well, give a hand for this year's tributes!"

Nobody claps. They never clap.

We sit, stand, and shake hands. He's surprisingly calm, maybe that's how he'll pass himself off- calm and collected. Nobody ever suspects the quiet one.

A squad of peacekeepers usher us inside the Justice Building, showing us to the rooms where we will say our final goodbyes. Among those escorting us is my step-father, Crail. Before he closes the door, he gives me a small hug.

"Good luck."

As soon as the door is shut, Anastacia comes bursting in, Mom and Dad following in her wake.

"You're so stupid." Anastacia cries, throwing herself on me. "I hate you, you know that?"

"I love you too, Ana." I pat her on the back.

"Why would you do that?" Mom asks, tears masking her normally confident voice.

"Because she's my twin." I state plainly, "and it's in the Twin's Code that if your twin is in danger you protect her at any cost. Your twin is your other half. You can't let your other half die."

"Aw!" Anastacia clings to me tighter, "please come home."

"I will. I promise." But somewhere deep down inside, we both know I'm lying.


	7. District Seven and Eight Reapings

**Eight down, four to go! Two more chapters before we get to move on with the rest of the games. And boy am I glad, these reapings are getting repetitive :| I'm sorry if these seem shorter, but I really am losing patience with these things.**

**District Six's escort was being super vague and imitating a villain from Poptropica, an amazing website everybody should be on. The villain was Betty Jetty from Super Power Island. **

**Disclaimer: I disclaim the characters, The Hunger Games, and the brilliance that is the Submit a Tribute challenge. **

**. . .**

_**District Seven**_

_Connor Lizben_

_I look up to the trees above me as rain begins to fall from the canopy. Blindly, I start to run, frantic to find shelter and save what little I've caught. Fear engulfs me and I trip over something on the ground. Before my face is even in the mud, I feel a pair of fangs sinking into my leg. Fear holds me in place as my killer slithers past, back into the trees and out of the rain. _

_As I fall into a terrifying blackness, a canon goes off._

"Connor! Come on." Elyn shouts, snapping her fingers in my face.

"What? I'm coming." I shake my head and look around.

"What was that about, dude? You spaced out." Vick points out.

"Nothing. I'm just still a little tired, that's all." I push it away. They don't need to know.

"Come on. We've got one day left and then we're all free. Well, except for Elyn." Roman winks and nudges her in the ribs.

In response, she shoves him onto the ground, "come on. They're about to start."

Roman stands back up and we walk to the section for eighteen year olds. Elyn goes to her section. Vick and Dew, both being nineteen, go to the back. We chatter softly through the opening ceremony as the other guys our age keep as much distance as possible in this small pen.

Then the reaping begins. Our escort is a guy who doesn't look as stuck up as he acts. He has black hair that is always combed over one side of his face and usually wears a grey hoodie, jeans and converses. Yeah, he sounds cool, but he's a total asshole.

"Happy Hunger Games!" He cheers, before quickly moving on, "lets try the gents first this year."

"Gents? He's kidding, right?" Roman snickers.

"And our tribute this year is… Connor Lezben!"

"It's Lizben, idiot!" I shout, before realizing it was me. Me.

No. I'm supposed to be free after this! My legs move me onto the stage. I stand there, waiting to find out what unfortunate soul I have to kill.

_**Lillybet Norris **_

"Connor Lezben!" The district's escort, Shi, cries happily.

"It's Lizben, idiot!" Somebody shouts.

After the pause, an eighteen year old walks onto the stage. He's expressionless, motionless. And he terrifies me. I hope that I'm not picked. But I probably will. And then I'll die.

"And our lady tribute." God. Shi's a moron, but a cute moron. "Lillybet Norris!"

Something catches in my throat, stopping me from breathing. I can feel something in my eyes- tears. Oh shit. This terrible sensation, the dreading of what comes next, it's murdering me inside but it hasn't kept my legs from moving. I find myself onstage. My generally happy disposure is gone. I feel alone. And angry.

"Let's give our tributes a round of applause!" Shi announces, clapping over-enthusiastically.

I turn and shake Connor's hand. He has a scary gleam in his eyes. I shudder, and am almost happy when the peacekeepers take us away. I'm shown to a room draped in musty blue velvet, and the first thing I do is sneeze. Second order of business, sit down on the dusty couch and try to rub the tear stains out of my dress. It's brand new and I spent all of my savings on it. I don't want tear stains.

My family comes in shortly, well, Mom and Dad. I don't know where my sister, Cedar, is. Probably off with her husband, trying to figure out what to do when I'm gone. What they'll tell their child when I die. Mom quickly shakes these thoughts away with a suffocating hug. Her black hair blocks my view of dad.

"Lilly! Lilly darling!" Mother chokes, squeezing me tight against her.

"Mom, please." She's making me cry again. "Please try to calm down."

"Calm down?" She shrieks, "Calm down? My baby girl is being sent away to die! And you saw that boy- Connor! He'll tear you to shreds!"

"Way to be confident in me mom." My voice catches in my throat. How _dare_ she underestimate me!

"Lilly, this is a very stressful time for your mother. You know how she gets under stress." Father reasons.

"You think this is a stressful time for _her_? Think about me! I'm being sent away to die!" I'm infuriated. My parents think I'm going to die?

"There's no need to be angry." Father says, trying to put his hand on my shoulder.

I push him off, "No need to be angry? You guys don't think I'm going to make it! Do you even know how that makes me feel?"

"Lilly, darling, it's not that we don't think you're going to make it, it's just…" Mom sighs.

"I don't care mom. Get out."

_**District Eight**_

_Jayden 'Jay' Crush_

My mom gives me one last hug, "Jay, we'll see you afterwards."

"Alright mom." I smile and hug her back before turning and giving my little sister a hug.

"Be good." May smiles, "and may the odds be ever in your favor!"

Old reapings have been on television lately and May has watched almost all of them, especially the early ones. I shake my head, smiling, and go to my section. I talk to a couple guys about the rainstorm that blew through last night until the ceremony starts. As soon as the readings are over, our escort, Molly, walks onto stage.

I think Molly is the most normal person in the entire Capitol. She doesn't bounce about, jump up and down or treat us all like children. The only thing strange about her is her skirts and her way of speaking like she's really singing. Oh, and that annoying accent, of course. Molly always wears skirts. Every year. This year, her skirt is green. She also has a yellowish top and a white vest. See? Normal.

"Happy, happy Hunger Games!" Molly sings, clapping her hands to her own tune, "who's ready? Girls first!"

Molly walks over to the bowl with the girl's names, reaches in, and swirls them around she walks to the podium, smoothes out the paper, and reads the name in a sing-song voice.

"Samanta Amor!" She sings.

I twist around, looking for the girl. A twelve year old goes onto stage. She says something, but Molly is already picking the boy's name, smoothing out the balled up paper, and calling his name.

"Our boy tribute is… Jayden Crush!" Scratch that- my name.

As I walk onto stage, I can see my mother in the back, her eyes wide with shock. She screams and faints. A group of peacekeepers carry her away.

"Do we have any volunteers?" Molly asks, unfazed by what just happened, "No? Well then, everybody give our tributes a round of applause!"

But they don't clap. We're young. _I might have a chance but,_ I glance at Samanta, who looks all alone and scared, _she doesn't. _I shake her hand and try to reassure her with my eyes. The peacekeepers take us to the Justice Building were we will say our goodbyes. My dad comes in, but he can't stay. He has to go to mom. He gives me my token- a drawing of me that May made.

"We love you, Jay. Be safe." Dad claps me on the shoulder and hugs me.

"Tell mom I love her." I say, and dad nods before leaving.

The rest of the time I'm alone.

_Samanta Amor _

I wait in anticipation, peering over taller children's heads, trying to see Molly as she reads the girl's name.

"Samantha Amor!"

Me? Is that me? I look around and all my fellow twelve year olds are staring at me, some sad that it's me, others happy it wasn't them. I walk up to the stage and wring my black hair uncomfortably.

"My name is Samanta." I whisper. But Molly already walked away. She'll never hear me.

"Our boy tribute is… Jayden Crush!"

A thirteen year old comes onto stage. He looks okay, but his brown hair is kind of messed up. My eyes are torn away from him as a woman from the back screams and faints. _That must be Jayden's mom. _I think. A pair of peacekeepers picks her up and partially drags her away through the mud.

"Do we have any volunteers? No? Well then, everybody, give our tributes a round of applause." Molly sings, clapping for them, because nobody else is.

They don't clap because this isn't fair. We're bound to be the youngest. We're going to die first. And they all know this. I can feel it.

I turn and shake Jayden's hand, hoping he won't be the one to kill me. Though he's small, just like me.

A group of peacekeepers take us inside the Justice Building, up an elevator and into different rooms to say our final goodbyes. My family comes, but they can't stay. They all give me hugs and kisses, then leave. Except for my sister, Therese, who's two years older than I.

She stays just long enough to drop my doll in my lap and give me these words, "You have to go through hell to get to heaven."

Then she gives me a final kiss on the forehead and leaves. I wonder if Jayden's family stayed, or if they were with his mother.

**. . .**

**I'm sorry this is so short, I really wanted to get it out. But look, I didn't post it at midnight! Wahoo!**

**Just as a fun-fact, Molly is based on my best friend, but just looks and fashion sense. She doesn't really sing all the time.**


	8. Districts Nine through Twelve Reapings

**Sorry for the delay, lovelies. My family came into town this week so I could only write at night. But they left now so I can write! Anyways, these next reapings might be short because I just crammed them all together. If your character doesn't get a lot of airtime, don't worry, s/he'll get it later. **

**And Lara Croft makes a cameo! Try and find her (really, I didn't make it that hard.)**

**DISCLAIMER: Must we do these? Really? What if one of the books/games/whatever is actually yours? Then what?**

**. . .**

_**District Nine**_

_Luna Night_

Nico and Nina wrap their skinny arms around my legs, "we love you Luna."

The twins. They're so cute it should be a crime. I bend down and hug them both, "I love you guys too."

"Can we play 'rosy before you go?" Nina asks.

I look at mom, my eyes asking for the time. She nods and I look at my other sister May, who's thirteen and thinks she knows everything.

"May, do you want to play?" I ask as Nico and Nina grab my hands.

"Me? No way. I'm too old to play baby games." She scoffs, turning away from me.

Fine. Her loss. I turn to the twins and we skip in a circle, singing the silly little nursery rhyme.

"Ring around the rosy, pocket full of posies! Ashes, ashes, we all fall down." The little ones giggle as they fall on the ground. I only crouch down because I don't want to get dirt on my new black dress.

"Okay. Now that you're done playing with the babies, can we go now? I promised Sydney to tell her something before the reapings started." May says, false exasperation flooding her voice.

"Alright. I'm coming May." I roll my eyes and gave the twins one last hug, "love you guys."

I straighten up, give mom a pat on the shoulder, and follow May into the square. She instantly weaves herself in with the other thirteen year olds. I shout a goodbye into the crowd before joining my friends near the front of the crowd. We stand in an awkward silence until the reaping began.

After our mayor finishes droning about the rise of Panem and reading the Treaty of Treason, our ever-flamboyant escort, Lydia, bustles up to the podium. This year her hair is dyed black and looks like she had just woken up.

"Happy Hunger Games!" She cheers, "who's ready to see what two children will be honored with competing this year?"

A few guys boo, but the majority is silent. I tuck the tip of my black bangs behind my ear in anticipation, a silly habit I developed when I turned twelve. I tend to do it when I'm nervous, irritated, or when my stomach's in a knot.

"It's going to be okay. Just calm down." I whisper to myself.

Lydia hops down the stage and pulls a name from the crystal bowl with the girls' names in them.

"And our female tribute is… May Night!" Lydia cheers.

I blink rapidly, my mind trying to process that name. Why is it so familiar? As a soft whispering surrounds me, I can see a girl with long black hair making her way up to the stage. She's wearing my old powder-blue dress and a pair of white flats. May.

"No. No. Volunteer! Volunteer!" I urge myself.

"Do we have any volunteers?" Lydia asks.

**. . .**

_Felix Raven_

"Me! I volunteer!" A girl shouts, pushing herself through the crowd onto the stage.

I push May back, "I volunteer."

"Luna don't be stupid." May argues, trying to push me aside.

"Shut up and get off the stage." The volunteer states.

May retreats and I sigh, rolling my eyes. They must be siblings or something of the sort.

"And what is your name?" Lydia asks, holding the microphone up to her lips.

"Lu-Luna Night." She chokes out before retreating a few steps and breaking down into silent tears.

Lydia, with a tear in her eye herself, skips over to the bowl with the male's tributes name in it. With _my_ name in it. My little sister, who's fifteen and home with the stomach flu, told me she had a dream that I was reaped. I had passed it off as nothing, but she has a knack of dreaming about things and then that thing coming true.

"And our male tribute is… Felix Raven!" Gasp. Shocker.

I shake my hair out a little bit, flatten out my bangs and walk onto stage. I keep my head high, my smile sexy. Win them over. Make them love me. Whatever it takes.

**. . .**

_Luna Night_

Luckily, as soon as Felix Raven and I shake hands, Peacekeepers take us away so my family and I can mourn in privacy.

I sit down in a chair in the room I'm told to go to, wrapping my arms around my knees and wishing this all away. I wait and wait and wait. Finally, the door opens. May comes in, towing Nico and Nina behind her.

"Mom was too much of a mess to come see you. She fainted right outside." May explains.

I nod as Nico and Nina climb onto my lap.

"Luna, are you leaving?" Nina asks.

"Yeah. I guess I am." I give her a weak smile.

"Will you play 'rosy with us one more time?" She asks.

"Sure."

"May-may, will you play too?" Nico asks.

"Fine." May sighs.

We stand, take each other's hands, and start skipping in the circle. "Ring around the rosy. Pocket full of posies."

_Ashes, ashes._

_We all fall down._

**. . .**

_**District Ten **_

_Cordealia 'Corrie' Liviston_

I turn to Veck, smiling. "After today, we're free."

"Yes. We are." He smiles along with me, tucking a stray piece of silvery blonde hair behind my ear.

Veck kisses me on the nose and I giggle. He's the best a girl could have, and he's all mine.

"I love you baby." He whispers.

"I love you too." My ears seem to perk at the sound of the bell tolling, telling us it is eleven o'clock and that we should probably get going. "We've got to go. Daddy will notice if I'm not there."

"Fine." Veck gave me a final kiss on the lips before we separated, standing in our separate places in the square.

I chattered with my best friend, Tiffany, until Dad started to speak. My dad's the Mayor and he's got this way of speaking that tells you he knows what he's talking about. He read through the standard readings and our escort, Lara, approached the podium. Lara isn't like most of the escorts I've seen. She has long brown hair that is always braided and tossed over her shoulder. She tends to wear shorts and shirts that are too small, but this year she's wearing a black dress instead.

"Happy Hunger Games everybody!" She smiles, "let's get started, shall we?"

Lara walks slowly over to the girls' bowl. She doesn't seem to like her dress very much.

"And our female tribute is," Lara pauses as she takes out the slip and smoothes it out on her palm, "Aimee Liviston!"

**. . .**

_Veck Evans_

Aimee? No flipping way. Aimee is Corrie's little sister. That little girl is half of my world, Corrie being the other half. I can remember just over one year ago, when I saved that little girl's life.

She was eleven and I had just turned seventeen. On my walk home from school, out to the stables where I work, I caught her and a group of kids a little older than her pushing her around by a river that cuts through the heart of the district. I stayed nearby, climbing a tree just incase something went wrong and I was needed. Corrie and I had been dating for a year then, and I was very protective of her and her sister both.

The kids taunted her and shoved her onto the ground, dangerously close to the river. I intervened and ended up having to hit one or two of the older kids to get the point across.

I'd do anything to protect that little girl. Anything. If she doesn't get a volunteer, I'll go in with her.

But I don't have to, because a voice is calling out to volunteer. A voice all too familiar. A voice I don't want to hear in this specific situation.

"Me, I volunteer!"

Corrie shoves her way onto the stage, past Aimee and up to Lara, "I volunteer."

Aimee pales and faints right then and there. Mayor Liviston rushes over to her and carries her off the stage and into the Justice Building.

"I'm Corrie Liviston."

"Well, you must be the Mayor's daughter, then. And Aimee was your sister, correct?" Lara smiles, "well, enough Pomp, on to our next tribute!"

Lara strides over to the second glass bowl, pulls a name from the very bottom, and returns to the podium. In her high pitched Capitol accent, she reads the last name I'd expect.

"Veck Evans!"

**. . .**

_**District Eleven**_

_Matilda Neare_

I looked ahead, staring at all of the heads in front of mine. At this rate, I might be able to see over the others' heads by the time I'm eighteen.

"Hey, Matilda." One of my best friends, Ri-Ri, greets.

"Hey Ri-Ri. What's up?" I ask, staring straight ahead. I've been finding it hard to look at her as of late.

"Nothing. I was just talking to my brother, and he says he found out that all of the reapings are pre-selected since there are so many of us. He says that all of the slips in the bowl have one name on all of them, no matter how many times your name is supposed to be in." I can see Ri-Ri smile out of the corner of her eye. "Who knows. It could be your name in that bowl."

"Ri-Ri, please shut up." I beg, turning on her sharply. I don't want to think about that. About how I could be the only person whose name is in that glass bowl.

"Okay, calm down." She smiles and I cringe.

Ri-Ri is from one of the poorest families in the district. She, along with all of the other poor kids, climb the fruit trees. My parents package the fruits and vegetables and prepare them for shipping to the Capitol and, sometimes, the other districts. The point of that whole thing was that Ri-Ri, being poor, has poor dental hygiene as well. She lost her front tooth recently and it's really creepy looking.

I shook my head, turning away as the reapings began. I hummed through the opening ceremony. The only time I really allowed myself to pay attention was when the actual reaping began and our escort, a man whose name I've long forgotten, comes onto the stage.

"Hello, hello District Eleven!" He cheers, "Let's get started!"

He hops over to the first bowl- the bowl with the girls' names. He pulls one out, walks back to the podium and reads the name out loud.

"Matilda Neare." He calls loudly.

I locked up. What? My name? I looked at Ri-Ri, who mouthed 'told you so' at me. I dragged myself up to the stage.

"Do we have any volunteers?" He asks. Of course there are none. What was I expecting? "No? Okay then!"

**. . .**

_Blaise McCormac_

I watch as the tiny twelve year old girl walks up to the stage and click my tongue in disappointment. Of course. Of course a twelve year old would get picked. She's a cute looking little kid, with curly brown hair and grey eyes. She's a little chubby, but aren't all twelve year olds?

"And now for our male tribute!" Harvey, my district's escort, walks over to the second bowl and pulls out a slip. He returns to the podium and reads the name out loud, "Blaise McCormac."

Really? How unexpected. I walk up onto the stage and stand next to Matilda. She's shaking a little, but only as much as you would expect. I run a hand through my sandy blonde hair and sigh.

"Let's give our tributes a big round of applause."

They don't clap though. Because they know this isn't fair. A twelve year old and an eighteen year old. _I have to kill her. _I think desperately. No, I'd never kill a little kid like that. How… how can people even do that? I shake my head, flattening my hair a little bit. Matilda and I turn to each other and shake hands. She looks so tiny, so vulnerable.

Peacekeepers sweep us away, inside the Justice Building. I go into the room they directed me to and as soon as I sit down, my sister Tara and her husband Sam burst in. Tara's practically in tears. Ever since our parents were killed by the Peacekeepers, I've lived with Tara. We moved in with Sam after they got married.

Since the day we saw our parents beaten to death, Tara has been overly-protective. Take this situation, now. She's raving about how she wishes somebody should've volunteered for me. And Sam is trying to tell her to calm down. But it isn't working.

"Tara. Calm down." I snap, suddenly very angry with her constant jabbering.

"How am I supposed to calm down? My baby brother is being sent away to die!" Tara shrieks, throwing her arms down desperately.

"And I'll come home. For you. I promise." I tell her, pulling her into a hug.

"But how are you going to kill that little girl?" She asks, holding me at arms length and staring right into my eyes.

_Good question. _

**. . .**

_**District Twelve**_

_Jocelyn Bennett_

I looked at my mom sadly. She must know how terrified I am. Reaping Day does this to me. I turn into a nervous wreck. Every year since I was four years old, one of my siblings has died in the Hunger Games. One year, two of my siblings died. The next year, the Quarter Quell, another died. I'm so scared. This is my third reaping and I have over fifteen slips in that bowl. I had to. Otherwise, even with the dwindling numbers of my siblings, I never would have made it.

I can't help but think, as I hug my parents goodbye, that this may be my last hug. I've been lucky so far, but the horrible storm looming in the distance doesn't show much promise. Neither does the rain that has forced the reapings inside the Justice Building, for that matter.

"We love you sweetie." Mom kisses me on the forehead, "Maybe we can have more of those apples you picked afterwards."

"Okay." I smile before turning and entering the swarm of children moving into the building.

It's noisy inside but at least it's warm. I shiver and try to wring out my curly brown hair as I make my way over to the rest of the fourteen year old girls. I also attempt to wring out my dress- a pink checkered dress that belonged to my sister. It's still a little big since she made it for herself when she was fifteen- the year before she was reaped. That's my outfit- my sister's big checkered dress, a pair of flats with a hole almost worn through the toe and a locket with our family picture in it.

The reaping begins and the district's escort, a relaxed looking woman named Nessie, comes onto stage. She's dressed for the weather- in a bright yellow raincoat, silly black galoshes and a yellow rain hat. I giggle.

"Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be _ever_ in your favor!" She cheers. Ever since before anybody can remember, that has been my district's escort's signature. "Let's get started. Ladies first!"

Nessie walks down the stage and reached into the girl's bowl. Swirls her hand around. Plucks a name between her freakish fingernails and returns to the podium. In her high Capitol accent, she reads the name of the tribute.

And I'm not surprised when I hear that it's mine.

**. . .**

_Ian Drees_

"Jocelyn Bennett."

No. Not again. Not that family again. I shake my head sadly. A few years back her brother and my best friend, Tiek, was killed in the games. Actually, every year since I was at least eight, a member of her family has been sent to the games. It's a bit sad, to be honest.

"And now for our lovely Gentleman!" Nessie pipes, hopping about between the bowl and the podium. She stands erect, still far shorter than anybody I know, and reads the name as loudly as possible, "Larkspur Drees!"

Once, a long time ago, I got into trouble with mother and she slapped me. It stung badly and I had to ice my face. Is that what's happening now? Have I been slapped? Or is this something worse? Worse than being slapped? Have I been stabbed? What's happening? I try to regulate my breathing as my mind registers that yes, Larkspur has been reaped. Am I moving? I look down and see that, indeed, I am running towards the stage. I'm shouting something, as well.

"I volunteer! Me, Ian Drees! I volunteer!" I finally register my actions and slide to a halt next to Larkspur.

Lark gives me a grateful look before retreating into the crowd. I sigh as I take in my actions. The consequences. The fact that I may not make it. But when I steal a glance at Jocelyn, all I think is that she _must_ make it out alive. I owe it to her. To her family for not taking Tiek's place when I had the chance. As we shake hands, I begin to question whether I volunteered to protect Larkspur, or if I did it to protect Jocelyn.

We're lead away, deeper into the Justice Building. We have an hour to say goodbye to our families. My family comes in first. Larkspur looks far-off in his own mind. My twin sister, Isobel, sits on my right and takes my hand in hers.

"Ian," She whispers, holding my hand up and pressing it to her lips, "Ian do you remember when we were little and we rescued that pregnant dog?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I remember." I say, wondering why Isobel would bring this up.

"Do you remember how, after she had the puppies, those two puppies would cry and cry before all the others died? Do you remember what mom called that?"

"Twin telepathy." I nodded, remembering it clearly.

"We've got that same connection. Please, please come home. I'm afraid that if you die in the arena, I'll die with you."

**. . .**

**The reapings are over! Wahoo! Now, here's how this is going to go- Train rides for the odd districts, chariot rides for the even ones, and the rest is cut up so that each character gets their screen time before they die. **


	9. District One Train Ride

**Okay, here it is! District One's train ride! Sorry for the short delay, I've been really wrapped up in real life. I had a crapload of babysitting jobs this week and I've also been wrapped up in re-reading both of these books so that I'm ready when Mockingjay comes out *spazzy dance* **

**There's not a whole lot of Jason in this chapter because I'm kind of irked with his character right now. **

**DISCLAIMER: I disclaim everybody but the escorts. I made them up myself :3**

**. . .**

_**Jason Clarke, 14**_

I look out the window at the people snapping pictures as the train begins to take off. According to Marion, we'll make it to the Capitol later tonight. We'll have a night off in the Remake Center before the other tributes arrive and we prepare for the opening ceremonies.

I haven't seen Anna since we got on the train. I turn around and walk down the hall, to the room Marion told me was mine. I slide open the door and step inside. The sound of the door sealing behind me is comforting as I let an orphan tear trickle down my cheek.

_**Anna Spiera, 17**_

I let out a loud sigh as the door to my room sealed behind me. I could feel my shoulder's tensing up. _You volunteered for this. _I remind myself as I go into the bathroom. I set my charm bracelet on the counter and quickly undress. As soon as I step in the shower, I'm assaulted by an array of buttons and knobs. I turn the hot water on high and press a button that coats me in foam that smells like lemon tea and strawberries.

The foam rinses off quickly and I stand under the hot water for a long time, relishing the steam it creates. There's a sharp rapping at the door.

"I'll be out in a minute!" I call, turning off the water and grabbing a towel.

There's no need to towel-dry, though, because as soon as I step out a burst of hot air instantly dries me. I smile, exchange the towel for a soft white robe, and go see who's at the door. It's an Avox girl, dressed in all white. She's holding a tray with a mug of something I recognize as hot chocolate and a note.

"Thank you." I smile and take the mug and the note.

The Avox bows and retreats. I go over and sit on my bed, sipping the hot chocolate as I read the note. It's from Jason. I roll my eyes and begin to read.

_**Jason **_

I look around nervously as I walk down the hall, looking around for Anna's room. A note is tucked in my pocket. As I walk, I run into somebody dressed in all white. An Avox.

"Uh, excuse me. Could you please give this to Anna? And, uh, maybe a cup of something hot? I know heat relaxes her." I grimace as I hand the woman the note.

She nods, bows, and walks back down the hall. I sigh in relief and rush back to my room.

_**Anna**_

I look at the paper, dumbfounded. Jason… I've never met somebody as stupid as him. Just because he's in love with me doesn't change the fact that he has to die if I want to get home.

_But what about the 74__th__ Hunger Games? Two people came home that year! _

But that doesn't matter. They were in love, the victors that year. They were going to commit suicide if they both weren't allowed to live. It's very rare that they broadcast that year, but it's beautiful, in a twisted way.

I crumple up the paper and throw it at the wall. There's no use in keeping it. Regaining my family's honor means to ties with anybody in the arena. Any ally assisting me just means that I haven't fully earned anything. It means I haven't gotten my family's honor back at all.

There was a loud knocking on my door, "Anna, it's time for dinner!"

"Alright. Thanks, Marion." I call.

Standing up, I go over to the closet and program an outfit of my liking- a pair of grey jeans, a long-sleeved blue shirt and a long green vest. Fully dressed, I exit my room and walk down the hall to the dining room. There is a table with five chairs- one for Marion, two for the victors and two for Jason and me.

The table is laid out with all sorts of different foods. Jason is already piling up on food. I snort. It's as if he's never eaten before in his life. I slide into my seat next to him and take something that smells like chicken. I take some kind of bean and some orange potatoes as well.

I eye Marion, who is flipping through a notebook quickly, "Alrighty everybody. I am glad to let you know that we are right on schedule."

"Yay." Oda Herph, one of the two mentors, rolls his eyes and slurps his soup loudly, smiling at Marion's face of disgust.

Oda is the younger of the two mentors. He is only nineteen, winning when he was seventeen. The other mentor, Frieda Slimjim, is about forty. She won when she was fourteen.

"Just so you know, Frieda, I have dibs on mentoring Anna." Oda smiles at me over his soup. I blush. He is young and _very_ good looking, while Frieda is old and has a huge mole on her chin.

"Fine. I can whip this little chicken bone of a boy into champion before the games." Frieda states, tearing into a leg of chicken.

I stole a glance at Jason, who was poking at a pile of potatoes with a grimace on his face.

_**Jason**_

After dinner, Anna and I went into a room where we would watch the reapings. Oda and Frieda sat with us. Our reapings were first. The cameras moved from us only for a second, to look at Paris as she screamed and ran from the square.

The first few districts didn't offer anybody interesting. District Eight offered the first twelve year old this year, a little girl named Samanta Amor. The tributes from Ten were engaged. Eleven had another twelve year old. Twelve had some more sickly looking kids, even though they obviously had more money than the other kids in the district.

As the screen fades to black, the train comes to a lurching stop. Marion comes parading into the room, announcing our arrival in the Capitol.

We stand up and file out into the hallway. The door slides open, and we step out, surrendering ourselves to the flashing lights outside.


	10. District Three Train Ride

**Sorry for the delay guys! I just now got around to writing. School started yesterday and I just finished Mockingjay. Updates will be slower than they normally are xP**

**But, without further ado- District Three's trainride!**

**DISCLAIMER: I own none of this, just the idea for this round of Games and the escorts.**

**. . .**

_Adrienne Sadel, 14 _

I waste no time getting as far away from the windows. The photographers are snapping pictures of the train as it whisks us away. Pictures of the families we are leaving behind. I can picture my mother, dabbing at her eyes daintily with the hanky her new husband gave her.

The image, honestly, sickens me. I want to kick something so badly. As soon as I get into my room, I find the most fragile looking thing in my room, a lamp next to the bed that has colors streaked into it stylishly, and chuck it across the room. That's good. I don't feel completely better, but it's good for now.

I flop backwards onto my bed, covering my eyes with my arm. I lie in this position until a very upset Proserpine yells at me to get going.

"Wonder who upset her." I chuckle, sitting up and exiting my room.

_Damon Ledger, 18_

I didn't stay to watch the flashbulbs go off. To watch them capture my children. To see the desperate look on Tag's face as he tried to shield them all from the questions. To see Skirret break down and cry like that, just because Evaline and Haven were crying too. I didn't see them get washed away, like moss with no rock to hold on to.

Instead, I escaped to my room and locked the door. I sit on the floor, leaned against the wall with my hands pressed into my face. _They'll be fine, Damon. Mrs. Harlow promised to take care of them while you're gone. _But no matter how many times I tell myself this, I still can't keep that horrible feeling from my stomach. If I die in the arena, they die too. Because I doubt the peacekeepers will allow the kids to stay with Mrs. Harlow for long.

I don't know how long I've been sitting here, but there's a loud pounding against my door and some sort of squealing. As I listen more closely, I realize it's just Proserpine.

"Damon, dinner! Hurry up!" She sounds pissed.

_Adrienne Sadel_

I sit down at the table, across from Proserpine and the mentors, Pete Ohm and Teth McCull. The two won within years of each other. Teth is a little bit older than Pete, but still treats him like he's still his mentor. It's weird. I look nervously at Proserpine, who's makeup is streaked down her face.

"Proserpine, are you alright?" Damon asks.

I jump. I never even realized he was in the room.

"It's nothing to bother _you _with, Damon. But it is of Adrienne's concern." Proserpine grits her teeth, "you're stylist has quit."

"What?" I shriek, dropping my fork onto the floor. It clattered against the hardwoods daintily and a servant, an Avox, rushed in quickly to retrieve it.

"He just quit an hour ago. He doesn't want to degrade himself by working on you." With this, Proserpine lets out a loud wail and slams her head against the table, wrapping her head in her arms.

Pete looks at me reassuringly while he pats her on the back, "she doesn't mean you, Adrienne. Your stylist was her boyfriend and he just quit the job. And he broke up with her. Don't worry. They're getting you a new one."

"Oh. Alright." I stare intently at the bowl of pears in front of me, trying to decide whether to take one or not. I take it, spearing it with my fork and eating it whole. 

These games will be interesting.

_Damon Ledger_

After Proserpine's breakdown, dinner was very uneventful. Teth McCull decided to mentor me, Pete Ohm taking on Adrienne. We were ushered into a room lined in blue velvet where we would watch the reapings. After that, we get to go to sleep. We're supposed to arrive in the Capitol before breakfast.

There was the usual brutish force from One, Two and Four, though the boy from One looks a little unsteady. I take note of all of the tributes that are twelve or thirteen years old. I can't kill those ones.

Adrienne rushes off to get some sleep as soon as the reapings end, but I linger for a while. Teth stayed behind too.

"Are you going to sleep any time soon?" He asks, pushing past me towards the door.

"Probably not." I shake my head, glancing at the clock. 9:47. I hope the kids are in bed.

"Then let's work on your strategy."

"I'm not great at that kind of stuff. I don't know what I think I need to do." I shake my head.

"Well maybe we can work on it in the morning." Teth suggests before wandering into the hallway.

I follow him out, returning to my room. I strip down and, after much fiddling around with the shower and several bursts of strange fragrances; I get the water on cold and stood under the freezing water and scrub off any remaining soap suds. Then I stand there for a long time, just thinking. When my lips start turning purple, I get out. A gust of hot air dries me. I go back into my room, pull on my reaping clothes and lie down on my bed.

Reaching into my pocket, I pull out the stone my kids gave me. I was told it is supposed to protect me. I sure hope so.


	11. The End?

**I'm sorry guys, but I'm going to have to discontinue this. I just sort of… lost the inspiration. I might write it again eventually. BUT I do have something for you. I've had the very last scene written out for a while now- or, the last scene of the games. So I'll share with you what I have and hope you'll forgive me. **

**I am, however, planning another one that will HOPEFULLY go more smoothly.**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Hunger Games.**

_Cal Roberts- D6_

I move on from the area quickly. As I rush off, Jocelyn's canon fires. That means that there were only two of us left- myself and Lillybet Norris. I know she heard the canon and I knew she'd be moving towards the Temple. I suppose I should start moving that way as well.

The sun was just starting to rise. The games will end today. I head east, towards the rising sun and the Temple. As I walk, I think. I can't possibly kill Lillybet, even if I want to. My only weapon is the knife that I took from Ebony's body after she was attacked by the pythons.

I'm much closer to the Temple than I thought, and have reached the Temple before midday. I walk across the clearing and began the ascent to the top of the temple stairs. When I reach the top, I am out of breath. And Lillybet is waiting.

"I can't believe that it's us." Lillybet says distantly. "I never expected to make it this far, but I didn't really expect _you _to make it this far either."

"Lilly, I don't want to kill you." I state.

"But you don't want to die." Lillybet looks at me and I realize the truth in her statement. I don't want to die, but I'm not prepared to kill.

I pull the knife out of my pack. Instantly Lillybet is on her feet, her weapon in her hands- a sharpened stick twice the length of my arm. I raise my hands, turning and flinging my knife to the ground below.

"Come and get me Lilly. I'm not afraid to die." My voice shakes as I speak because I'm lying. I am afraid to die.

I take a step back and my sneaker almost slips off of the edge. I feel myself begin to fall backwards. Lillybet charges at me as my feet leave the edge. Arms reeling, I scramble for a grip on something. But there's nothing. Lillybet flies over my head as my fingers find a grip on the edge. I slam into the hard stone wall panting. I look down as Lillybet grabs my ankle with my free hand.

Grunting, I try to maintain my hold on the wall. I can't fall. We'll both die from a fall at this height. I begin to pull myself back up when I feel a stabbing pain in my left leg and almost loose my grip. Looking down, I see what I feared most. Lillybet has stabbed my leg with her spear. A scream of fear escapes my lips and I kick at Lillybet, trying to pull myself up. My foot collides with something that makes a cracking noise, likely her nose. I pull myself back to safety and look down over the ledge.

Lillybet has already hit the ground, her stick lying next to her, broken. As I peer over the edge, something dawns on me. Through the pain in my leg and the blood and Lillybet's dead body, I realize that I've just won the Hunger Games.

**. . .**

**I hope you guys are satisfied. I really worked hard on it and hope it makes up for everything.**


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